


Rumbled

by roguebowtie



Series: Teenage Mutant Ninja Cheerleaders [11]
Category: Glee, Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Blaine Anderson-Stark, M/M, Ninja!Kurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 22:58:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/603011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roguebowtie/pseuds/roguebowtie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's December 21, 2012 - also known as the Apocalypse... and the day Blaine Found Out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rumbled

The explosion came out of nowhere. 

Blaine had been down in Kurt’s little office, visiting.

Well.

Kissing.

But that’s beside the point.

The _point_ was the explosion came out of _nowhere_. Kurt swiftly pushed Blaine to the ground as the glass crashed into the room, slicing his clothing and leaving not a mark on his skin. He looked out to see what had caused the concussion wave, and swiftly pulled the desk around, pushing Blaine into the footwell of it and covering the opening with his crouched body.

“What’s going on?!” the younger teen shouted, covering his head with one arm while simultaneously trying to drag Kurt to squeeze into the small space with him.

Flame licked in through the window, rushing to encompass the room. 

Thank Stark for desks made light of weight and to not only _withstand_ heat, but to keep anyone hiding behind them safe from it. Still, as the inferno from the dragon, _Really? A DRAGON?! What the hell was Reed playing at with his portals again?_ , continued to rush the room, Kurt could feel his shirt disintegrating under the onslaught. “Blaine. I need you to press in in front of my right ear,” he said steadily.

“What?”

“JUST DO IT,” he told him, his tone brooking no argument.

Blaine reached one hand to press in front of Kurt’s ear, then shifted his fingertips when he was told to press them closer to the opening. He felt something give, and pulled his hand back.

Kurt winced slightly as his comm turned on and the din of chatter came through. After a moment, he could pick out a few things. “Emcee,” he said, through grit teeth. “What’s the situation?”

Blaine watched, confused. Why would he-?

“I’ve got Blaine Stark with me in my office, it’s where the first concussion to Stark Tower hit. I need you to piggy-back me into the Avenger’s comm system, and scramble Snix and the rest if they aren’t already on ground.”

Slowly, realisation began to dawn behind Blaine’s eyes as he looked up at Kurt, seeing the flames at his back and seeing no wince from his boyfriend. “Kurt...?”

“Later, Blaine. In my front pocket there’s a silver mask, pull the strip off the edges of it and put it on over my eyes. Please. I need you to trust me.”

“Holy-! You’re _Porcelain?_?”

“Please, Blaine.”

“Okay.”

Kurt kept listening to the chatter, shifting his stance enough that Blaine could pull the metallic mask from his pocket, and pull off the adhesive strips before pressing it to his face. He shifted again under another onslaught of fire, his shirt falling forward as the back of it was burned away to nothingness. “I’m okay,” he reassured his boyfriend as Blaine looked just about ready to panic again. “It’s okay. It will be okay. I’m trusting you with my secret. I trust you.” 

“Okay. I love you,” Blaine murmured.

“I love you, too.”

He paused, hearing something in his ear and dropping his voice to the lower tone he’d used when he and Snix had rescued Blaine in the alley months ago. “Hey there, Avengers. Sorry to break into your line, no Stark don’t bother tracing, this is Porcelain. I’ve got Blaine Stark covered in Hummel’s office, no sign of Hummel. If you guys could get rid of the dragon glazing my back, I’d appreciate the help. My people are moving in to help out, I know the X-men and Four are helping out on this too, so.... Just let us help this time. We’re all New Yorkers here.” He waited a moment, frowning then smirking. “See? Hawkeye trusts me, what more do you need?”

Blaine shook his head, opening his mouth, then shutting it, and shaking his head again. The heat of the room was sucking away a lot of the oxygen, and there wasn’t much Kurt, no. _Porcelain_ could do about that. His breath sped up, and Porcelain shook his head. “Stay with me, Blaine. Match my breaths. Slow in, hold, slow out. It’ll last longer. Help’s on its way.”

He struggled to do as he was told, but the glimpses of flame, the heat of the air, the closeness. His breaths came more and more quickly as he felt like he was suffocating. Grey creeped into the edges of his vision, threatening to consume him as he pulled at his own collar, desperate for air. The heat of it burned in his lungs and he coughed.

“Match my breaths!” 

He tried.

He couldn’t.

Black.

“BLAINE!”

***

Porcelain watched helplessly as Blaine slumped against the back of the desk. Then again, perhaps that was for the best. He’d use less oxygen that way, feel less like he was drowning in dry heat. He winced a little as the flames licked at his body, turning his clothes to useless ash. Well. THAT was going to be embarrassing.

 _”What have you done to my son!?”_

“Nothing, Stark, he panicked himself into passing out. It’s probably best for him. Now if you could stop this Dragon from FRYING us, it would be appreciated!” he ground out.

 _”Got him,”_ came Hawkeye’s voice over the comm, moments before there was a deafening roar.

_”Angry AND Blind, why didn’t I think of that!”_

Then there was the sound of an explosion, and the flame stopped licking at Porcelain’s skin.

_”Oh yeah, blowing its brains out. Good job, Legolas.”_

_”I live to serve. Porcelain, you got it from here?”_

Porcelain slowly backed out and looked over the remains of his office, then at Blaine’s unconscious form. “Yeah, I’ll get him Evac’d, then make sure there’s nobody else trapped in here before I join the rest of you.”

 _”Always save the pretty hobbits first!”_ came a female voice over the comm.

“Can it, Snix. You’re lead on the ground with whomever else from our team’s still in state,” Porcelain said. “Emcee, patch into the comms systems and keep me up to date, I’ll check in in ten.”

_”Right on, Porcelain - Happy Apocolypse Day!”_

_”Do you think if I finish that time machine, we can pretend this never happened?”_

Porcelain sighed, smiling slightly. “Negative, Brightmind - you keep doing what you do best, and keep flatscans off the streets.”

 _”Of course,”_ she replied, and Porcelain sighed in relief. 

He had no time to figure out clothing for himself beyond taking what was left of his shirt and pants, and fashioning an awkward kilt to keep some semblance of Modesty before he pulled Blaine carefully out of the small space, picking him up half over his shoulder and making his way out of the office. 

On his way to the stairs, he paused to see if there was anyone still on the floor, but thankfully they’d already high-tailed it out of there. He’d make a more thorough check once he’d gotten Blaine to safety.

“JARVIS!” he called.

_` **”..zzt... ..Blaine?”** ` _

The speakers seemed to be out. Hopefully as he got further down they’d be more stable. “Safest place to put Blaine until the all-clear?”

_` **”...-shop.”** ` _

“The workshop? Stark’s workshop?” He clarified, keeping one hand on the banister as he raced down, down, down the stairwell.

_` **”Yes. You still have acc....”** ` _

“Thanks, Jarvis,” was the best assent he could make as he bypassed the first two basement levels, down to the third. He slapped at the controls, punching in the updated code Pepper had given him just the other day for the sake of Stark-Wrangling, and pushed his way inside.

Two bots, that Porcelain recognised as You and Butterfingers, rushed him, picking at Blaine in his arms, and being generally underfoot as he made his way to the small sofa, carefully laying his burden down, tilting his head gently over the arm to keep Blaine’s airway clear. “You’ll be okay,” he murmured, before pressing a kiss to his forehead.

He turned to leave, almost stumbling over the third bot. “Dummy, I don’t have time for-” He cut himself off as a pair of sweats was shoved at his chest pointedly. “Wow, thanks. You’re the best,” he said, pulling them on and leaving the scorched remnants he’d been wearing in a pile beside the couch.

The bot whirred at him and held it’s pincer up expectantly, and Porcelain looked at it curiously. Dummy grabbed his hand, put it up, and then bumped it with his grip.

“Okay. Cool. Good. Keep an eye on Blaine and don’t let him leave until someone you know comes for him, okay?” 

The whirr of reply was good enough for Porcelain as he darted out of the workshop, hitting the lock button as he leapt up the stairs to search the building.

He was just passing the second floor when Jarvis fritzed coherently. _`**”There are six people still in the building, sir. Level six, and thirteen, as well as one on the living level.”**`_

“Who’s stuck on the living level?”

_` **“Ms. Potts was knocked into an open cabinet when the building was hit. She is currently unconscious.”** ` _

“Lovely,” Porcelain grumbled as he raced up.

***

Level six were three people hiding in a closet. “The minute things stopped shaking, you should have gotten out of here-” he said as he opened the door, pulling them out. “You’re new, aren’t you?”

The three young people, older than him, nodded.

“Go down to the first basement, there’s a stairwell from there into the subway tunnels, You’ll be safe there.”

There wasn’t much talk after that, he got them to the stairwell and made sure they were on their way before continuing upward. He almost laughed when he found a couple, half dressed, in a supply closet.

He didn’t, because he recognised them. Wow. Embarrassing.

He gave them the same instructions before continuing his climb upward.

***

_”Finally - we’re just about done here, you wanna go check on the Tower?”_

_“Porcelain seems to have it covered, Iron Man.”_

_“You sure seem to trust this guy, Hawkeye - what’s the deal. He a friend of yours?”_

_“You could say that. Believe me when I say he’ll make sure everyone gets to safety. Give me a lift down to the street, will you?”_

_“I hate cleanup.”_

***

Porcelain found Pepper unconscious on the floor of the kitchen, several plates and a few pans strewn around her. Other than a goose-egg that was starting to form on her temple, she seemed unhurt. He lifted her up, she was lighter than Blaine somehow, and headed toward the stairs.

_` **”The attack has ceased, if you would care to take the elevator down to the workshop, sir.”** ` _

Porcelain slumped with relief against the wall between the elevator shaft, and the stairwell. _“Thank you.”_

It wasn’t long before Porcelain was laying Pepper opposite Blaine. He went to the fridge, pulling out an icepack and, wrapping it with some relatively clean rags he found in a box beside one of the work benches, gently holding it over the bump on Pepper’s head while he checked in with Emcee on the situation in the city. He was relieved the fighting was over, and said he’d stay with these down here until one of them woke.


End file.
